


live for victory ( or die for justice )

by cerbyphobic



Series: live for victory ( or die for justice ) [1]
Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Childbirth, Depression, Egg Laying, F/M, Female Link (Legend of Zelda), Ghosts, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Wilderness, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerbyphobic/pseuds/cerbyphobic
Summary: She swung over the edge of the wall, hitting the ground with a thump. She needed to get to the second shrine before night fell. It was still mid-day, but she was still trying to figure out the lay of the land. She enters a space and freezes. Danger seeped from it, the still metal dead for a century, but still tore a labored breath from Link.She had seen first hand what they could do. Her side still burned from when one had - her memory stopped, it was foggy, a voice, her voice, no, no. Someone she loved...they were calling for her. They were saying hold on, they would save her. Tears ran down her face and she shook her head, she couldn’t remember. She needed to. She had never wanted to know a face or name so much before now.
Relationships: Link/Prince Sidon, Link/Revali (Legend of Zelda)
Series: live for victory ( or die for justice ) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031001
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	1. 001.

The voice was persistent in it's nagging. Reaching and digging in with sharp pitches, to drag her from her slumber. "Link...Link! Wake up!" Clear eyes opened and she sat up. Aches from battles she doesn't remember winning spread slowly through her body. "Morning sleepy head." 

The voice. It was so familiar, in the soft timber, the rolling r's and the subtle e's. But no name came to her, no image, no memory. Why? She focused on the voice, climbed out of the water, the liquid sticking to her before sliding off. Her feet ached as if she had stood for years, running after a fading image.

She rocked back as pain ricocheted through her head. She didn't understand, she just wanted to rest again. But a deep feeling, in her guts, no.  _ In her bones _ , told her to stand and to walk and to reach out and take the slate and to leave her place of rest behind. A hundred years. Sunlight burned her eyes, through her eyelids as she closed them and raised a hand to shield her face. 

Fresh air stung her lungs as she came to the cliff's edge and looked out over the land. A smile graced her features. The wind blew through her hair and over her skin, whipping the blonde strands around her face. A movement to the side drew her attention and she turned. A man stood ways down the path, a large staff between his hands and a hood over his head, hiding his face. Instinct climbed up her spine, bared it's teeth and screamed danger. 

The ground shook and she had to widen her stance to stay steady as black skies suddenly manifested, suddenly a feeling of horror and pain erupted from her, at the moment that the malice and hate tore from the ground. It surrounded the building on the horizon, roaring it’s battle cry. She hadn’t even realized she had bared her teeth in response, before she pulled her lips from her teeth, sticking to the ivory. She tore her eyes from the distant cloud that took the shape of a boar, before leaving her cliff. 

She followed the path, worn boots she found in the cave thin enough that she can feel each groove in the stone, each misplaced gravel. The wind blew a smell to her, burning and soft. Fire. She approached the outlet and settled on the log across from the old man. His presence was familiar and it bothered her - she knew them but couldn't place them, him and the voice that hovered on the edge of her mind, watching, waiting. A task was given. 

And she followed it to the letter. It was carved into her very essence, to follow the orders given to her. It was unnerving, to know she had had a life before this, that she had slept for so long. Her mind had forgotten her past, but her body knew it well enough. 

She dodged the arrow that sunk into the ground in front of her, back peddling and falling on her butt. One wedged itself between her skin and her trousers. She tore away from the enemies, racing from the flat ground and launching up to the rock before her. One sat just below her, beside the slate reader she needed to get to. She slid off the rock and quietly snuck to the reader, shoving the slate into it. 

The tower awoke, rumbling and shaking the platform. The monster was rocked off the platform, a sickening snap echoing as it hit the ground and stayed there. Link clenched the side of the platform, as it rose from the ground, higher, higher, higher until it finally stopped, and the information downloaded into her slate. She let go, took her slate, and stood at attention when the old man appeared. 

She turns and the scenery is not much better than the one at the Shrine of Resurrection, but it still stole her breath away. The old man gave her another task and she left to fulfill it. Climbing down wasn't nearly as bad as climbing up and when her feet landed on the hard ground, the dust flying up around her, she had never felt more alive. Her strides were long as she jogged to the first shrine. A shiver flew down her spine and she dodged. 

An arrow lodged into the ground where she once stood and her eyes quickly found who was responsible. A bokoblin. A red one, easy to kill, a few well-placed hits with - her hand had reached to her back, muscle memory kicking in, but she grasped empty air. She tried to search her memory for what she was reaching for, but pulled a blank, as usual. 

But she knew what the empty air meant. She had no weapon. She couldn't fight. So she ran. Find a weapon. Kill the bokoblins. Enter the shrine. It was a well-thought-out plan. So she went to start it. Her weapons were limited. Sticks. A dull ax she found in a stump, the blade chipped and the handle rotted. By the time she had collected enough sticks to deal enough damage to wound the bokoblin, night had fallen. 

She crept back to the camp and realized there were more than two. There were six, and they were mostly blue. One was a black and Link decided it might be best to kill him first. They slept, and she snuck up to them. They had better weapons, clubs with spikes, and a sword that glinted with familiar purple and gold. 

She took it, careful with her movements, and brought it down on the neck of the sleeping bokoblin. It sliced through with ease and the head rolled away. The sludge of blood that came after was nauseating, but she had a job to do. 

She fell into a familiar movement, slicing through bokoblin flesh. A horn sounded, but she ignored it. She dodged arrows and climbed the lookout tower and sliced through the ankles of the archer. It screeched in pain before Link shoved the sword through it’s eye. 

Labored breaths ripped from her lungs, fogging in the quickly cooling air. She takes the sword, cleans it, and scavenges the bokoblin. The bow is swung across her back and it’s quiver is tied to her side. She collects as many arrows as she could, from the ground and from the logs around the camp. 

She lifts a shield and tests its weight. Light enough to carry easily, but not heavy enough to survive more than a few blows. It would do. She keeps it and a loud chime rings through the quiet air. She lifts her head to the other lookout tower, but atop this one was a chest. She climbs it and opens it. 

A bundle of arrows lays in it, but the tips are shaped like fire. They’re warm when she lifts them, almost hot enough to burn when she brushes her finger against the tip. She puts them in her quiver, makes sure to pull a few feathers from them to differentiate them from the regular arrows. 

Once she is done with collecting what she can from the camp, she continues to the shrine. It glows an ominous orange against the dark sky. A faint memory edged on her mind. Like she had seen this silhouette before. Maybe she had. She was sure she would recover all her memories one day. 

She slides the slate into it’s place and the shrine opens. It smells like dust. She scrunches her nose up but continues into the shrine. By the time she left, the sun was high in the sky. But she had earned a new power. No time to waste. She took her slate out and flipped to the runes. 

The magnet shape glowed for a moment before she chose it and effortlessly lifted a metal cube from the water beside the shrine. The old man flew from the sky and after a moment, Link didn't try to figure out from where. She listened and for a fleeting moment, anger unfurled it’s petals in her stomach. 

But she gritted her teeth and nodded. She teleported to the tower and searched the landscape for glowing shrines, but she couldn’t differentiate them from the sun hitting rocks or actual shrines. She sighed through her nose and fiddled with the slate. 

She lifted it and brought it to her face and the landscape suddenly widened and she could see where the shrines were. One was atop a high mountain, covered in snow, another tucked away on a cliffside, and the closest was in a small maze, just a league west from the tower. She would go there first. 

She swung over the edge of the wall, hitting the ground with a thump. She needed to get to the second shrine before night fell. It was still mid-day, but she was still trying to figure out the lay of the land. She enters a space and freezes. Danger seeped from it, the still metal dead for a century, but still tore a labored breath from Link. 

She had seen first hand what they could do. Her side still burned from when one had - her memory stopped, it was foggy, a voice, her voice, no, no. Someone she loved...they were calling for her. They were saying hold on, they would save her. Tears ran down her face and she shook her head, she couldn’t remember. She needed to. She had never wanted to know a face or name so much before now. 

She needed to go. The shrine. The second. The third. Get off the Plateau. A plan. She took a shaky breath. She had a plan. She needed to follow it. She left the hunk of metal to rot even more in the ground. She climbed the next wall and a creaking sound drew her eyes up. This one wasn’t dead. Red light spilled from the veins as it spun it’s head, before focusing a beam of light on her. Targeting her. 

She leaps from the top of the wall just as it fires, tearing a chunk of wall with it. She ran and hid behind a truly dead one, trying to calm her head, her breathing. She was going to die. This is where it all ended.  **No!** The voice rang high in her head. But it wasn’t the one that woke her up. It was harsher, and a wave of heat swept through Link, heating her lungs, a spark glowing in her chest. 

She opened her eyes, a memory of a tall woman and a shock of red hair leaving her as quickly as it came. She needed to live. She pushed off the dead metal and ran to the parallel wall, jumping up, pushing herself to cling to the brick, and pull herself up before it fired again. She landed on her back, sucking in breaths, pain ricocheting in her ribs and spine. 

She covered her face, hiding from the sun, and let herself cry her last tears. They dried on her cheeks and she smiled. She survived. Of course, she did. She stood on shaky legs and walked to the shrine. 

She left the shrine and it was dark. The stars were visible, glowing high above her head, another day gone within the walls of a dusty shrine. She sucked her teeth and continued on, this time staying to the outside of the walls. She narrowly avoided another live one, disappearing behind a wall just as it woke up. 

The open meadow gave her the space needed to breathe. She could see a small light in ahead, flickering, like a fire. She chased after it, old rainwater splashing up on her pants as she ran through a puddle. She paused at a tree heavy with apples, tugging the closest one down and sinking her teeth into it. The satisfying crunch of the ripe apple echoed in her head, rung through her bones as she walked towards the firelight, vision adjusting to the dark in time to see the three figures sleeping beside it, jumping up at the sound of her approach. She stopped. Bokoblins. And she just woke them up.


	2. 002.

She needed to run. But her feet wouldn’t move. They wouldn’t lift. She dropped the apple as the bokoblins rushed for their weapons. She still had the sword on her back and the shield, and just as the first bokoblin got close enough for her to smell the stink of its breath, she pulled the sword and slashed through the flesh of its large head. It howled in pain and the other’s screamed their anger. 

She dodged a club coming down on her, and lunged forward, running her sword through its stomach, tearing open the fragile guts within. She rolled out of the way as the last one thrust a long stick at her. She wouldn’t allow it the title of a spear, wasn’t anything more than a stick. 

She blocked it with her shield and when the monster stepped back from the force, she cut it’s arm off and ran her blade through its neck, slicing its head from the body. The first was bleeding out from the cut, struggling to crawl to its weapon. Even with it’s dying breath, it wanted to see her dead. She wanted to laugh at how pitiful it looked. But left instead.

She put her sword and shield back and continued through the field. She could have stayed at the fire, but she didn’t want to smell the sludge-like blood and rotting bodies. A building began growing in the distance, short and stout. Her feet fell quietly now, blood rushing through her veins and head, on high alert after the squirmish. 

She came upon the back end, placing a hand on the wood grain and walking beside it, carefully, listening for any noise that would give away a monster around the corner. Nothing. It was silent. A black pot sat in a small clearing before her, in front of the cabin. No fire was lit under it, but she turned her attention back to the cabin. It had no door but was better shelter than anything else.

She enters, running a hand over the wood counter, fingertips catching on old wood grain. The cabin smelled of dust and stale cloth. Like nobody lived here for many decades. Who would? Ah. The old man. He wasn’t here, but he could be back at any moment. She sits at the table, finally resting her feet - she had just slept for 100 years. 

She places her elbow on the table and her eyes find a leather-bound journal, closed and just a hand space away. She reaches for it and brings it into her space to read. She flips it open and the letters blur for a moment before she can focus. The ink was old and she recognized the writing, but she couldn’t place it, a name on the tip of her tongue but fading quickly. 

It was a recipe. Two spicy peppers, raw meat, and something else, but the man couldn’t remember it. She sighed through her nose, closing the journal and running her hands down her face. Well, she couldn’t sleep, so she’ll try and figure it out. She was hungry anyway. She stands once more, stretching up, curling her back until it gives a satisfying ‘pop’. 

Two spicy peppers sat on the counter, convenient. She takes them, dropping them into the pouch built into her trousers. She would need a bigger pack. Maybe she can make one. She left the cabin, the stars still bright above, as she scavenged the cleared area. A torch and a pot lid. She sighed, but took them with her, just in case she supposed. 

She turned, eyes drifting over the lightly wooded area and more firelight caught her eyes. Bokoblins. Again. She avoided them, hiding behind rocks and jogging away from their camp. A tall building blocked out the stars above her and she slowly came up to a window. It was empty and columns had rotted away, falling to the ground. A statue sat in the middle of it, glowing with divine power. Hylia. The name echoed in her head and she scoffed. A goddess that left this world. She wouldn’t help them now. Link turned away from the temple and continued north. A large pond was on the north side of the temple and she climbed down to the small outlet. 

Her boots sunk into the wet sand, and the small waves lapped at them. The wind blew from her back, whipping up loose strands of her hair. When the waves rippled backward, Link caught scales of green and orange in the water. Fish. Not exactly raw meat. She scratches her chin, thinking. 

A memory, small and insignificant floated through her mind. A soft voice telling her their father’s favorite dish, best for when they’re going somewhere cold. Link had made it so many times to comfort them, peppers cut into thin slices, raw meat stewed in its own juices and layered on top of it, a fish fillet. Link tilted her head. Worth a try. 

But she needed to find the raw meat first. The fish would go bad when she hunts. Hunts. She paused in her step. She had gotten so caught up in her memory, she was moving on muscle memory again. She was deep in the woods by the time she realized she was moving. The trees were lit with bird noises, owl hoots, and other night bird songs. 

She’s silent on her feet as she cuts through the woods. She’d needed to find some prey but - hm. She paused at a fallen log. She recognized it. The stump where she found the old ax was just beside it, but she didn’t remember the bow or quiver of arrows. It had been sunset, so she didn’t think much of it. She picked up the quiver and inspected them side by side. The one she had at the moment was better, so she took the arrows from the other and shoved them into her quiver. The bowstring was loose and the wood was splintering. 

She left the log and crept close to the ground. A shuffle and a snort had her stopping. Just beyond the bush, she was crouched behind was a mass of brown fur. She scooted to the side and watched the boar sniff the ground, searching for food. She took her bow and an arrow from the quiver and notched the arrow. She watched the boar scavenge a little closer to her and she pulled the string taut. She waited for a breath and let the arrow loose. It sunk into the boar’s side, ripping through the flesh and organs and it gave a death wail before falling to its side. 

She stood and put her bow back where it belonged. She took out her sword and wished she had a smaller blade. She put a foot on the body and pulled the arrow from it’s guts. She wiped the blood on her trousers and put it back in the quiver. She slowly cut the boar up into slices of meat, cutting away the fur and the bad parts. She left the corpse, her slices of meat wrapped in leaves she deemed safe and tucked into her pocket, so she can get the fish without worrying about the meat. 

She’s quick to run through the woods, never feeling as free as she did then. Her boots hit stone quickly and she was on the same path she had been on just the day before. The one that led to the Shrine of Resurrection. She turned to look up the path, past the cave the old man had been in that afternoon, to the cliffside that gave way to the opening of the shrine. She tore her eyes away and went to the outlet to fish. She took off her boots and rolled the trouser legs up to her thigh and wadded into the cold water. 

She sighed, closing her eyes at the feeling. She stood for a few minutes before a different sensation brushed up on her leg. She looked down and a fish was beside her, investigating her leg. She held her breath for a moment before her hand shot out and pulled the fish from the water. It flopped in her hand and she stepped out of the water so if it fell it couldn’t swim away. 

She set the fish on a flat rock and found a stone to kill it. A quick blow to the head and the fish stilled. She lifted it and quickly jogged back to the cabin. The dark night had peaked while she hunted, and a new dawn was rising as she made her way back to the cabin. As she approached, she saw a flickering fire under the pot. She allowed a small smile to grace her face. 

Perhaps the old man could be of some use. She stops by the pot and sets down the fish on a stump nearby. She pulls out the raw meat and unwraps it. Next was the peppers. 

“Are you cooking?” She looked up and the old man stood a few steps away, just in the doorway of the cabin. She gives a nod. He gives a hearty chuckle and walks over, pulling something out and handing it to her. She hesitantly took it, the rounded edge a hilt to a small paring knife. She sucked on her teeth and thanked him quietly. 

She thinly slices the peppers, throwing them into the pot to simmer. Then the blade swiftly cut through the raw meat, into thin slices to simmer down and add fat to the peppers. The fish was a bit harder, having to pull the bones from the fillet, but when the old man offered two plates, she served him first before herself. She sat on the ground at the old man’s feet, blowing on her spoonful. 

It was hot food and she was happy about it. Her stomach had been empty for so long, an apple here and there when she could snatch them from trees. She ate quietly, the man praising her cooking skills. She finished, sighing happily. The food warmed her guts and soon even her flesh. “Those peppers have special properties. They keep you warm for a few hours. You’ll need them and this for the next shrines.” 

He hands her a folded shirt and she stands, unfolding it. It was a heavy doublet, with a light green fabric and maroon accents. The sleeves were lined with a fluffy fabric -  _ wool  _ \- for retaining heat and the gloves were the same. She turned away from the old man and pulled off the ripping shirt she had on. She pulled the doublet on, sighing from the warmth. She buckled them over her trousers and the Sheikah Slate bounced on her hip. 

She adjusted her hair before turning back to the old man. He nods, humming. “You’re prepared for the cold. Be careful. It’s dangerous.” She scoffs. 

“No more dangerous than what I’ve been doing.” He smiles like he knows something she doesn’t. 

“The cold gets everyone. Be careful. Your Sheikah Slate will tell you if it’s too cold for you.” She  _ tsks _ under her breath but doesn’t speak anymore. 

She leaves the old man and heads back to the temple. It still hums with power, of old gods, and forgotten prayers. It calls to her, wants her to enter. She turns away, climbing the slight incline, the air nipping at her nose, and any exposed skin. A stone gate arches in her view and she pauses. It gives her a sense of familiarity, but she shakes it off. 

There are small bushes around the gate, with sparse spicy peppers hanging off of them. She sucks on her teeth and picks them, placing them into her pocket. When she steps through the gate, it's like a whole new world. The snow was thick on the ground and the coldness finally bit through the warm wool of her doublet. Even then, the heat from the food she ate warmed her up enough for her to find the burnt-out campfire and wood bundles. 

A dead machine sat beside the bundles and she stood for a long minute, watching it. Then turned and left it. A torch sat propped against a tree and against the gate was a sledgehammer, beside a large stone that glittered. A faint voice that called for her to strike the ore harder, harder, to work harder, broke through the constant haze in her mind. 

A huge rock stood before her, no, a Goron. A friend. Friendly smiles and words. It was an ore that would give her rocks to use. She takes the sledgehammer and takes a breath. Muscle memory runs through her once more, just like with the sword, just like with the fighting. She swings it back, over her shoulder, and brings it down with all her might. 

Had it been back before her sleep, she would have been able to do it in a single strike. But it took three. She needed to get stronger. The ore shattered into pieces, pale pink and a stone that rubbed off on her gloves. Salt and flint. She could use the flint now. She threw down a piece on the campfire and struck it with the sledgehammer. Sparks flew and caught the wood on fire. She grabbed the torch and swung it through the fire. It lit on fire and in the small glow of the torch, she was warm. 

She carefully straps the sledgehammer to her back, the butt end digging into her side, but she ignored it. She needed to get to the shrine before it got dark. The sun was just peaking as she climbed the snowy hills, finding paths she was able to climb without dropping her torch. It wasn’t very long until she heard the familiar noises of bokoblins. 

She hid behind an outcropping and peeked over it. Three red bokoblins, a fire and a red barrel with a skull and crossbones on it. She stared at it, trying to figure out what it meant. Explosive. The thought came suddenly. She remembers. A first. She just needed to set it on fire. The heat of the torch gave her an idea. She couldn’t sneak past them without being seen, so she needed to kill them. 

Her least favorite activity of the year. She pulls her arm back until the muscles in her back and shoulder are taut. She eyes bokoblins and sends the torch flying. It lands on top of the barrel and she ducks behind the outcropping, covering her head. It takes just a moment before an explosion rocked the ground and she steadied herself on the rock. 

She jumps up and pulls out her sword and shield. The one that was furthest from the explosion was still alive, burn marks ripping it’s flesh on its face and stomach, filling the air between them with the stench of burnt skin. She sneers as it screams at her and charges. She meets it midway, blocking a wild swing from its club and easily removes its head from the body. 

The torch burnt with most of the wood, but she gripped loose wood and continued on with her makeshift torch. The next shrine was on the cliffside, but looking down on it, she would need to climb down. It had taken a few moments to even find it, now she was sliding down loose rocks to get to it. This had better be worth it. 


	3. 003.

It had barely been worth it. She coughed, sucking in a fresh breath. The moon was just rising on the third day of her awakening, and she was already tired of this. She pauses for a moment, glancing over the world. She could see the tower and the shrine in the maze from here, turning her head to the east, a huge bride stretched over a lake, another orange tower just beyond it. 

It was beautiful. A small smile tugged on her lips. Perhaps it was worth it all. She stretches and rolls her shoulders, before going to climb back up to the snow. There was a small incline, but trying to find grips with the gloves was difficult. But she slowly made her way up, and the crunch of snow was worth it. 

She climbed the incline, boots sinking into the snow, freshly fallen while she was in the shrine. A lone blue bokoblin guarded a treasure chest, but she jogged past it, listening to its angry cries fade. The night was falling fast, and she would need to find shelter. Although the relatively barren mountain didn’t offer any. The air got colder the higher and further she walked, coming to a high peak. 

She looked up at it and moved past it. Just past it, she could see the orange glow of the last shrine. Finally. She continued forward but tripped. Her face met the cold snow, her arms failing to catch her. She stood, dusting off the powdery white and looked at the offending object. A stone. A stone tripped her. She was tired. She turned and stopped. A mostly finished stone circle was just before her.

She looked down at the stone and back at the circle. One was missing. She sucked her teeth. What the hell, why not. She lifted the stone and carried it to the circle, setting it down to finish the circle. She smiled before a pop sounded and out of thin air, glitter and a small person materialized. It spoke, high pitched, before questioning her identity. 

Apparently, she shouldn’t be able to see it. But she held the small gold seed in her hand and continued forward. Koroks. Weird. She placed the seed into her pocket and dragged her feet through the snow. It was falling again, and in the dark night, she could see the firelight of a monster camp. She groaned. She would need to fight them again. 

Luckily the monsters slept, so she could sneak up on them. The smell of cooking meat invaded her senses and she wiped away the small amount of drool. The last meal she had was hours ago, and this one would warm her insides just the same. 

Link crept up to the black bokoblin and decapitated it. No noise sounded, and she made quick work of the others. She sheathed her sword and put away her shield, taking the seared meat and stuffing it into her mouth, the heat of the meat burning through the gloves, the fat and juices scorching her tongue, but she groaned in appreciation. She wiped the juices from her mouth and turned to the shrine. 

She would need to climb the cliff, but that was no problem. She finally rolled over the edge, all the climbing and fighting wearing her out. But this was the last one. After, she could finally get off the Plateau. She closed her eyes for a moment, the stars shining high above her, the snow still falling and the cold from the ground seeping into her skin. 

She opened her eyes and realized she had slept. Outside. For at least four hours, if the rising sun was anything to go off of. She ground her teeth. “Hopefully I don’t get sick. I’d never hear the end of it.” She slides the slate over the reader and steps into the shrine. Just as the platform started moving she thinks back. Who would get mad if she got sick? 

A brief flash of red and cream crossed her mind, a soft voice berating her as magic flowed over her wounds to heal them. The light of the day disappeared and she settled into the routine of the shrines. 

She left the shrine and stretched. Finally done. She should get back to - the old man flew down on his paraglider. Temple of Time? She narrowed her eyes and watched him take off again. She sucked on her teeth. It wasn’t what they had agreed on, but he was already gone. She would need to climb back down the mountain and - she glanced to her left. She paused, staring at the pond. 

There was a treasure chest in the middle of it. There was no way she could get to it. She huffed out a sigh, before remembering her recent rune. She pulled the slate from her side and held it out. The snowflake shined brightly and she eyed the pond. Nah. She needed to get to the temple. She looked past the pond and eyed the large river just south of her. 

She could get across it, would probably be easier than trying the way she just came. She slides down the hill and heads down. It’s a lot of sliding down, pausing for a moment to swing down the cliffside to climb down. By the time she got to the bottom, her breath came harshly and tore through her lungs, the ice of the air burning the muscles. 

She would need to work on that, but she wasn’t as tired as she had been. She stopped at the edge of the river and groaned. She wouldn’t be able to cross it. The bridge had rotted away, the only thing left was the supports to say that there _had_ been a bridge here. 

She sighed through her nose, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She just wanted to get off the Plateau. She eyed the supports and walked a ways back, weighing her options. She could go the long way. Or...she looked back at the rushing river, the water ice-cold, and would surely eat away at her warmth. She would just have to stay out of the water. 

She stared for a moment, before racing for the closest support, as her booted feet came to the edge of the river, she launched herself across the surface of the water, hitting the support, almost all the way on it. Her legs scramble for purchase on the soaked wood support before she finally pulled herself up. 

She perches on the top, taking a breath. One down. Just a few more to go. She jumps to the next one, then the next, feeding the momentum that sent her to safety. A little more than a fourth of the bridge remained, so she used the momentum and strength in her legs to fly over the remaining support to fall onto the bridge. 

It hadn’t fully been thought out, as her hands hit the wood, they went through and ice water soaked her gloves, freezing her fingers all the way down to the bone in just a second. She screeched and tore her hands from the water, using her teeth to pull her gloves off and shoving her hands into her armpits. 

Her teeth chattered and she could almost hear the scolding words for her thoughtlessness, for how stupid she was and this - _**THIS**_ \- is why she doesn’t make the plans, Ze - the name burns into ashes as she realizes she doesn’t know who that was. She looks at the sky and could see it start to shudder, the tears brimming at the corner of her eyes and the clouds brewing at the edges of her vision. 

She wanted to remember! She wanted to remember! She screamed to the sky, trashing her feet and arms, crying. She just wanted to remember for once. She wanted to know why she was still alive, why following orders was the right thing, why she wanted to snarl and roar and fight. 

When she’s finished, tears flow down her cheeks and she wipes them away. Her screaming had warmed her core and she stood on the waterlogged wood. She would live, she would get off the Plateau and she would find the voice. She walks the bridge and her feet hit the shore, crunching shells and stone under her soles. As sharp cerulean eyes lift, to cut into the cliffside, one thought rings through her mind. _Or I’ll die trying._

She climbs the shore, knees aching, but a new power boiling in her stomach, like a fire breathing dragon, ready to burst from her throat and scorch the ground and cliffside. She was angry. She was tired. But she continued marching, continued towards the stone arch that would lead her right to the Temple of Time. She leaves the cold, warmth finally seeping back into her body. She stands for a moment at the edge of the cold, looking over the Plateau. The sun was barely setting, just on the horizon. The world was so big, would she be able to see it all? 

She finally climbs down, towards the Temple. It still hums with power, with old prayers that were never answered. She walks the length of the building, rotting stone and overgrown machines surrounding it. She climbs over one and her boots hit the stone floor. She turns and barely avoids having her brains splattered across the wall. The bokoblin had snuck up on her and she quickly peddled back, tripping over a low wall and rolling down a grassy hill. 

She stood with her sword ready and the bokoblin launched itself over the wall, screaming it's senseless words and war cries. She bares her teeth and launched herself forward, driving her sword into the bokoblin’s stomach, tearing it open. Guts fell on her as the bokoblin gave it’s dying breath. 

She wiped a hand over her face, pulling an intestine from her hair and climbed back to the Temple. She enters just as an arrow lodges itself in her shoulder. She screams in pain, dropping her sword and falling forward. Her knees hit the stone floor and she scrambles to hide from the archer. 

She reaches back and snaps the arrow shaft. She peaks over her hiding place, watching the blue bokoblin sniff at the sword and blood trail she left. The bokoblin blood that still soaked her hair and clothes was overpowering, a stench that was never going to wash out, but it was her saving grace now. 

The blue bokoblin couldn’t smell her under the stink of it’s brethren. That was why she was still alive now. She had the sledgehammer on her back, but she wasn’t strong enough to chase the bokoblin if it ran from her while carrying the hammer. 

She unstrapped it and crept around until she was behind the sniffing bokoblin. She swung the sledgehammer around, connecting with the head of the monster and shattering bone, splintering through the flesh as she finished her swing. It disturbed the arrowhead still lodged in her shoulder, but she bit her lip to keep from crying out. 

She dragged the sledgehammer to the dead body and took the arrows in it’s quiver and put them in her’s. She picked up her sword and continued deeper into the Temple. It was empty, save for the huge statue. It glowed with power and she let the sledgehammer fall from her weak fingers, blood seeping from her wound, dripping to the stone floor as she climbed the three steps to the statue. She fell to her knees and looked up at the statue. 

She wasn’t expecting anything, had been prepared to talk to no one. But as she closed her eyes to pray, a voice spoke in her mind, quiet and soft. Kind. “You have conquered the shrines and claimed the spirit orbs. I can offer you great power.” She opened her eyes to look up at the statue. 

“Can you heal me?” Link asked, blood soaking her lips and clothes. The statue hums with power and a wave of green and white light flows out, surrounding, consuming Link in it’s warm rays. She blinks and gasps, the wounds she’s gained in her days since waking up healing, the tip of the arrow pushed out of her shoulder and clattered to the floor, the skin and muscle stitching itself back. 

The aches and pains she had in her shoulders from swinging weapons fades and when the light leaves, she is just as she was when she woke up. She stands and straps her weapon to her back and gives one last look to the statue. 

So much resentment built up in her at the sight and she doesn’t understand why. She turned to leave but a question lingered on her tongue. “Why didn’t you ever answer her?” No answer. She leaves the statue and exits the temple. She looks out at the Plateau and then up. The setting sun, the clouds slowly following the wind path. 

She turns and her eyes catch metal glinting in the last rays of day. She approaches it and the ladder leads up to the roof. She climbs it, taking two at a time, full of energy thanks to Hylia’s blessing. Her feet hit the roof, bricks and stones falling beneath her. She climbs to the center beam and looks to her right. 

The old man stands in the tallest part of the temple, looking out towards Hyrule. She walks towards him, careful where her feet land and climbs up to him. “Good job Link. You made it.” He had meant every word of it, but she could taste the bile of resentment rise in her throat. She hated this man and she couldn’t figure out why. 

He explained the reason for her awakening, his body glowing and getting so bright, she had to shield her eyes. When the light dimmed, she lowered her hand and her eyes widened. Memories of the man flashed so quickly through her head she couldn’t recall every one perfectly. The king. 

Why did she hate him so?


	4. 004.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDED TAGS, PLEASE HEED THEM! warnings for graphic descriptions of pain.

Her fingers fiddle with the paraglider in her hands, her slate beeping with the location she needs to get to. Lady Impa, huh? The name was familiar, but then again it seems everything was familiar to Link, but her memories were so damaged she couldn’t even figure them out. The king left her alone and she looks out over Hyrule. 

She snaps the paraglider open and jumps. The wind rushes past her, whipping her blonde hair around her face. It was just like flying. Link had never felt so free. She closes her eyes against the wind, as it catches the cloth and pushes her up, before she comes down, past the wall of the Great Plateau. She was free. 

It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, as the ground got closer and closer, she folds the paraglider and rolls as she hits the ground. She stood, watching the world around her, the noise of the trees, the movement of creatures just past the trunks of the trees, tall beasts with noses longer than Link’s arm. She took a step back, drawing her sword and shield, before slowly moving to her right, tracing the broken stone path below her with her toes, watching the monster - Moblin - the name came to her suddenly. 

They hit hard, she knew that. Could feel the bone-shattering swing, a phantom pain into her side. She sheaths her sword and shield and races down the path, cutting past a sleeping one, the beast jumping to it’s feet with a battle roar. But she was already gone by the time it looks around. The road leads her through ruins and as she runs, flashes of buildings filled with soldiers, knights, dresses in the same armor as her, laughing faces as jokes are thrown around, the scent of sweat and blood as training gets rough. 

She knew the men and women that died here. And she knew that she would never be able to remember all their faces. A fountain was erected in the middle of the path and she pauses beside it. The water was long gone, nature taking it back, roots of a tree growing through it. She stares at it, hearing voices of decades past meld together until it all becomes a jumbled mess in her head. 

She went around it, walking through the former outpost, looking up at buildings, the dead guardians, the rusting swords and shields, their bodies long decayed and disintegrated. Snuffling to her left drew her eyes and she watches as a boar walks through the outpost, searching for food. She stares at it, before continuing. 

“They’re gone, Link,” she whispers to herself, voice hoarse from lack of use. “They’re gone and you’ll never remember them, will you?” She came to a stop, looking at the shrine beside the small hill. The bridge that was before her leads towards two tall peaks, familiar, familiar, familiar. That word repeats as she watches before she cuts off the path towards the shrine. She pulls the slate from her side and places it on the platform. 

The shrine gave her some practice for using the paraglider and it was just noon when she left. She reattaches the slate to her side and climbs the stairs to the bridge, walking as close to the right as she could. A man stands on the left, looking out, over the water running below the, to the other shore, leaning over the side, mumbling to himself. Link stares at him, eyes wide. 

She looks around, before slowly approaching him. As she got closer, his words became clearer. She stops just beside his elbow, flickering her eyes to the guardian on the shore. “Excuse me.” The man startles, turning and stepping back. Link gave him space, looking him up and down. 

He wore a heavy backpack and was dressed with sleek leather armor. She felt naked, in her torn trousers and warm doublet. He looks her up and down and frowns. “You’re gonna get real hot with that on, here, I have an extra tunic. You run into trouble?” He digs around in his backpack and offers her a clean red tunic, which she takes and unbuttons the doublet. He squawks and turns around, his backpack and sword jangling with the sudden movement. She arches an eyebrow at him but says nothing. She pulls the doublet off and pulls the tunic over her head. The man reaches back, offering straps of leather. “H-here! It goes with the tunic!” 

She takes them and straps them on. “I apologize, can you possibly help me? I’m not sure how this buckles.” He turns, hands covering his eyes, before he opened his fingers on one eye, looking at her. He takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Sure. Your accent sure is funny, where are you from?” Link turns and he adjusts the straps, the leather creasing over her shoulder and around her arms and waist. 

Link takes a moment to think. “Central Hyrule,” she glances over her shoulder, the man patting her back, feeling around her front to adjust the straps. 

“Really? Which stable?” Link swallows, blinking. “Riverside is the closest, I was just coming from there, but Outskirt is also Central Hyrule.” She sighs in relief.

“Outskirt.” 

“Pretty far.” 

“Yes,” he moves away and Link pats her sides. He had added extra cloth to the tunic, bunched under the leather straps, a deep turquoise color. “Thank you.” 

He smiles, bright white teeth flashing. “No problem!” 

“Do you perhaps know where Kakariko Village is, traveler?” He tilts his head, brown eyes warm with curiosity. 

“Brigo! That’s my name, just make sure to not wear it out!” Link blinks, her eyes flickering away before drawing back to his face. 

“Link.” He whistles through his teeth, shaking his head. 

“Named after a hero, huh? Your parents have aspirations for you? Word of advice, don’t be free with your name. Not many people around these parts like that name. He failed us a hundred years ago. But for your question,” he turns, missing the dark look that came over Link’s face, “if you go through the Dueling Peaks, past the stable, and over the bridge, that road will lead you straight to Kakariko,” he turns back and Link offers a smile, tight and hard. 

“Thank you, Brigo. I’ll take your words to heart. Safe travels and may Hylia’s light guide you.” The words flowed off her tongue and she continues on, ignoring the look of shock on Brigo’s face. The forest welcomed Link with open arms and she felt safe in the depth of the woods. The dirt path was well worn, the tracks of carts, horse hooves, and boots, deeply engraved in the ground. 

Link took a breath and began to hum. And then pain. She folded over, as her stomach convulsed. Her knees hit the ground and she gasps for air, trying to fight the wish to just lay down and give up. She crawls forward, dirt digging under her fingernails, then grass, as she drags her body towards a rock. She followed the rock’s face, to a small cave and tucked her body into it, taking in deep breaths. 

Push. She opens her eyes. She has to push. Why? She’s crying. Ah, when did that happen? She slips off her boots, pulling the tunic up to just under her chest, unbuckling her trousers as more and more pain rippled through her. She got her trousers off and the haze of pain fell over her mind and she lost herself to it. 

She woke slowly, the pain still heavy in her navel, and the burning in between her legs. “Ah.” She whimpers and adjusts herself, before stopping. “What in Hylia’s name?” She stares at the egg between her legs, the heat from the shell causing steam to ripple off of it. She blinks, pulling herself to her knees and pulling the egg, the length of her forearm, to her chest, into her tunic and begins to dress. 

The pain was still very real, but she could push it down until she found someplace to sleep and heal. She sighs, thinking of her used spirit orbs. She could really use them now. She leaves the cave, the morning sun breaking the horizon, dawn stretching over the sky in pink tendrils. She continues down the path, an added weight to her that she didn’t even realize she was holding.


	5. 005.

The peaks arched over her head, the day beginning to fall into night. She could see the lights of the stable at the end, just across a river. She watches the movement in the water and sticks to the rock wall of one of the peaks. She catches the faint orange light of a shrine on the other side and mentally notes it. 

She reaches the bridge and crosses it, the wood ducking under her weight, water rushing below her. She reaches dry land and eyes the shrine in the middle of a pool, but turns to the stable. She approaches it and comes into the ring of light it gives off, finally relaxing again.

“Hey, little lady! You need a bed for the night?” She steps up to the counter and nods. “It’ll be 20 rupees!” Link nods and digs around in her pocket, pulling out a purple rupee. He takes it and turns to grab the change for her.

“And, um. Do we make our own food?” She asks, taking the few green and red rupees. 

“Yep! There’s a pot, just toss some ingredients in and ya can make whatever! Make sure to clean it out after, though. Need a recipe?” Link shakes her head and takes a ticket for her bed. She approaches the pot and sits beside it, the fire warming her. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You need something?” A portly woman asks, standing across from her, hand on her hip, a ladle in hand. 

“Um. Just some food. I have a few apples and uh,” she digs through her pouch, pulling the apples and then fish. The woman hums. 

“Nothing I know with those, but I have some rice, we can make some fish and rice balls, how’s that?” Link beams up at her and nods. 

She watches the woman cook, humming as she stews the fish, pulling the meat off the bone, the rice steamed and ready to form. Link helps with that part, the egg in her tunic shifting as she moves, warm from the fire and Link’s body heat. She finishes the three rice balls and thanks the woman, before turning in her ticket to the man and climbing into bed. 

She drew the curtains around her and pulled the egg from her tunic. She stared at it, tracing the dark blue swirls and the gold speckles against the light brown shell. She tucks it into bed, a nest of the blankets around it, then curls around it, sleeping over the blankets, uncaring of any cold, as long as the egg is safe. 

Morning light wakes Link, and she opens her eyes, blurry shapes before it clears. Her egg, safe, her hand cupping the shell, her face pressed to it, hearing the beating heart within. She smiles. It’s alive. She woke fully, stretching and wrapped the egg in a small blanket the stable gave her, tucking it to her back, secure, unable to even shift and she left, waving at the men. 

The bridge was broken down, part of one side missing and Link avoided it with careful feet, before beginning to incline towards Kakariko. Travelers pass her and she offers small smiles to them. She pauses in her step, before approaching a large, moving tree. She stands and looks at it, before clearing her throat. 

“Ah! You can see me?” He shrieked, his voice so high pitched she nearly misses most of what he says. 

“Yes,” she nods, “are you a korok?” 

“No! I’m a Deku Tree! I lost my maracas though,” it sniffed and perked right back up, “you have one of my seeds! If you retrieve my maracas, I can increase the size of your pouch!” he shakes, the tree on his head letting leaves fall down. Link smiles and nods. 

“Alright, Hetsu. Watch this for me, alright?” She pulls her egg from her back and carefully places it in his hands. 

“Yes!” He nods and she leaves him. The open led her to three red bokoblins, dancing around a fire with steaming fish on shafts of wood. A treasure chest sat on a tower and Link tsked under her breath, pulling her sword from the sheath. She held her shield in front of her, before charging forward, slicing through the flesh of the bokoblin closest to her, turning to the next and deflecting a blow from it. 

She cut through it as well, turning to the last. It wildly swung it’s club, easy to avoid any damage and once she had it against the edge, she kicked out, and it fell, screaming as it went. The cliff was unforgiving and so was the ground beneath them. She sheathed her sword and shield and climbed the tower, opening the chest and taking the two red maracas from it. 

She climbed down and left. She followed the path and traded the maracas for her egg. “Let’s go!” Hetsu cried and shook around, his magic increasing the size of her pouch. She smiled and retied her egg to her back, tight, unmoving, safe. 

“Get home safe, Hetsu.” She waved as she left and the path was once again her’s. She had long entered the valley when she realized that Hetsu had never told her his name. She stopped and turned, looking down the path. She knew she wouldn’t see him, but she couldn’t help it. 

“Hm.” She shrugged it off and continued. Maybe Lady Impa would be able to clear things up, although Link doubted it. Soon music greeted her, and with it, arches of wood, with symbols drawn on paper, familiar, familiar, familiar, the word repeated once more. The Sheikah. A soft voice rose in the recess of Link’s memories, singing softly of a hero that had given his life, the sword that he wielded, and the princess he loved. 

Tears fell down Link’s face as she looked over Kakariko Village, an old woman calling for her, but Link couldn’t do anything but cry and cry and cry. Finally, she wiped the tears away and turned to the woman, whose face was worried, but wore a small smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so long since I’ve felt like I was home,” Link spoke, soft and hushed, worshipping, “where might I find Lady Impa?” 

Link followed the woman’s directions and passed shops that called out to her, men and women who’s backs reminded Link of an ally. She shook her head and stopped at the stairs. She looked up at them and then to the young girl who kneeled beside some statues, whispering, and whispering. Link moved past her and climbed the stairs. 

Her hands touched the old wood of the home, breathing even, but her heart thrumming harshly in her chest, her blood pounding. She pushed it open and took a step inside. The old woman before her slowly lifted her head, a wide-brimmed hat full of metal and though her face was so different that Link remembered, she knew. Link knew. 

“Impa,” she whispered, tears once more falling. Impa smiled, a hundred years older and a hundred years wiser, but Impa. 

“Hello Link. It is so good to see you again, old friend.”


	6. 006.

Link collapsed, her knees giving out, as she cried. Her tears wouldn’t stop, and she couldn’t keep from her voice rising and peaking. She cried and cried, and then she rested. She pulled both her knees under her, looking up at Impa. 

“Why can’t I remember anything?” Link’s voice was raspy, full of tears and pain. Impa’s face softened. 

“The tax, I suppose, for coming back from the dead.” The dead. Link had died. She stared at Impa, before her eyes fell to the floor. 

“I died?” 

“Yes. The Battle of Ash Swamp. You fell and I had to carry you to the Shrine of Resurrection.” They sit in silence for long moments, before Impa speaks once more. “Link, look at me.” 

Link lifted her eyes, looking at Impa. “Link, you have to go to Purah in Hateno. She can fix the Sheikah Slate and then come back here. We will go from there.” Link nodded, still stiff from the information she was given. Link stood and carefully swung her egg to her front, untying it with careful and deft fingers, wrapping it tightly once off her body. 

She carried it to Impa, who reached out, curious eyes. “Watch it for me, Impa. And when I return, tell me everything.” Impa nodded and tucked the bundle before her on the pillow she sat on and Link left. 

Hateno. She walked down the steps and shook her head. Where was Hateno? She lowered her head and turned to the woman, still bowing before the statues. “Excuse me.” The woman looked up and Link had to blink a few times. 

She looked just like Impa, although she grew flustered much easier. “Y-yes?” Link smiled, soft. 

“Can you tell me where to find Hateno?” The woman stood and nodded. Link pulled the slate from her waist and opened it, handing it to the woman. She touched the screen lightly, tapping a small part of the map, not extremely far, but over five days' walk. 

“If you go back to the stable, then you can capture a horse. It will make it much easier.” 

A horse. A horse. Why hadn’t Link thought of that? She blinked at the woman, a memory of a study body beneath her, a rich brown and flowing white mane, a name at the edge of her lips, one she has called many times, more than Ze-Link rocked back, holding her head as the pain clawed at the inside of her skull, scratching to get out. The woman gasped and called for help, strong hands gripping Link’s shoulders and cold liquid being poured over her. 

“Fine!” She screeched and all movement stopped around her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you.” She took the slate back, hair and shoulders soaked. “Tell Impa I’ll be back.” 

The woman waved at her, the men that had come simply watching her back. Link climbed the incline, barely hearing the voice that questioned her identity. “Better off not knowing,” Link whispered to herself and continued. 

The valley seemed to be so much smaller than she remembered and when she walked past the tree where Hetsu had stood, he was gone, leaving a few leaves in his place. She crossed the bridge, the sun slowly setting by the time she reached the stable again. She walked to the counter, the man greeting her again. 

“How do I catch a horse?” It wasn’t the man that spoke, the man beside Link responding. 

“You have to sneak up on ‘em, miss! Crouch and once you are close enough, swing up on their back and soothe ‘em until they let you ride!” He explained with grand gestures, before pointing to a small herd behind the stables. Link looked at them, ones of black and brown, spotted and solid coated. “Those with solid coats tend to be harder to tame, but if you’re up to it!” 

Link nodded and left them, walking around the pen that held sheep and crouched in the tall grass, nearly hidden from sight. She watched the horses, trying to find one that she would want to keep as a companion. A bright chestnut stallion came closer, ignoring Link’s presence. He had three socks, one leg completely solid, with a small stripe down his nose. Link smiled and crept forward, careful with her movements. 

Once she was close enough, she jumped out, grabbing his mane and swinging onto his back, muscle memory for mounting a horse coming to her. He reared up and she clenched her thighs, patting his neck with her hand as he tried to buck her off, to no avail. She may not have remembered the horses she had ridden in her life, but her body remembered when they became difficult.

He calmed, shaking his head and holding his head back, eyes wide and the whites showing. His herd abandoned him and Link climbed off, letting him take a step back. She reached into her pouch, pulling an apple from it and he stepped forward, sniffing it, before eating it in one bite. Link laughed at the feel of his lips fluttering against her palm. She took another one out. He ate it. The cycle followed until Link ran out of apples and he stepped forward, sniffing her for more. 

“I’m all out!” He pulled his lips back and Link laughed. He followed her back to the stable and the men stared at her. “I’d like to uh. Keep him?” 

“We can register him - for 20 rupees. It comes with a saddle and bridle.” The man at the counter offered, still watching her, seeming to try to place her. Link nodded and took out the red rupee, placing it in his palm. “And the name?” Link blinked. He blinked back. 

“Um,” she looked back at the stallion, staring into his warm brown eyes. “His name is Kuris.” The man nodded and he processed her payment and came out of the stable, beckoning her. She led Kuris to him and he sized him for a saddle. Once fitted, she mounted him and it felt right, sitting on a horse, looking down. 

“Safe travels.” Link nodded to him. 

“May Hylia grace your stable with fortune.” Link smiled and urged Kuris into a gallop. The stallion eagerly followed her direction, following the road to the fork, Link turning him right, to follow the road towards the mountains. As they rode, Link pulled the slate out and checked the map. 

Ash Swamp. Link carefully pulled Kuris to a stop, the stallion huffing, shaking his head and looking back the best he could. His rider sat still, staring down at the map, at the name. Ash Swamp. She turned, looking at the dead Guardians, at the camp of bokoblins. This is where it all ended, a hundred years ago. Where she failed. Kuris neighed, soft and low and Link blinked, looking to him. He watched her, shaking his head and taking a single step forward. Right, Hateno. 

She shook herself and looked forward. Hateno. Purah. Then back to Impa and Impa will tell her everything. She promised. Link could see the very tip of a tower, peeking over the top of the mountain and she smiled. 

She could make a small stop, it wouldn’t hurt. The road winds towards a mass graveyard of dead guardians, Link pulling Kuris to a slower walk, wary of the metal beasts, long dead and long still. Kuris walks forward, careful, of his movements, as if sensing the unease his rider radiated. 

They entered through a gate, guardians trying to climb over it, the map telling Link it is Hateno Fortress, a stronghold that fell. Link pulled Kuris to a stop and stared ahead, as if seeing a ghostly figure approach, atop a dark brown mare with a long white mane. And then it faded. Link lowered her eyes and Kuris walked on. 

Night fell just as they rounded a bend, and Link pulled Kuris to the side of the road and dismounted. She had no shelter, but a rock hanging on the side of the cliff would do. She tied Kuris’ reins to a small tree and climbed the rocks, digging her fingers into the sides, pulling herself up, finally climbing to her small space. 

She was pulled from sleep from a familiar voice, the one that woke her. Zelda. The name was clear, sudden and beautiful. Link’s eyes opened and she sat up, on alert. The sky had turned a sick red, the black and red fog corrupting the night. The moon hung heavy and low, a deep crimson. 

“The Blood Moon rises once more, and with it, the monsters you have slain.”

Of course. Why can’t anything go as planned? Link jumped over the edge, swinging back to climb down, untying Kuris and mounting him as he immediately started galloping. Monsters that were once hidden in tall grass jumped from it, revitalized from the Blood Moon. Link urged Kuris on, the stallion pushing himself to the very limit to get them both to safety. 

They passed the tower, following the road, the path winding and finally climbing up, through a heavily wooded area. A cry of pain and a plea for help drew Link’s attention. She pulled Kuris to a stop and he reared up. If not for the death grip on his reins or her thighs squeezing the saddle, she would have tumbled off. She watched the forest, blood thrumming in her ears before everything clicked. 

She was a knight. She swung off Kuris and charged into the dark, sword and shield drawn. She quickly found the two women and the bokoblins that terrorized them. Link cut through one and blocked a swing from the other, but couldn’t block the wild frenzy it dove into and was slammed into the ground. 

She kicked up, knocking it over her head and stood, stabbing down into it’s bulbous head, the blood and brain squishing around her blade. She pulled it free, boot on it's head to hold it down. It twitched as she withdrew it, but moved no more. She turned to the girls, one not moving and the other crying, fat tears falling down her face, blaming herself for wanting to find truffles. Link sighed and sheathed her sword, bending to the girl that was unconscious. 

People don’t change, she mused to herself, feeling around the girl’s head. The bokoblin had landed a blow against her head and she was bleeding. Link gripped the girls shoulders and carefully set her over her shoulder and the other girl followed after, still crying profusely. Kuris greeted his rider, shaking his neck and head, sniffing the girl Link brought with her. Link laid her in the saddle and led the girl and Kuris to Hateno. 

The gate to Hateno rose before them and Link pulled Kuris to a stop, looking up at it. It struck the cords in Link that played the harmony of memory, but it couldn’t play the whole song, incomplete. She has been here before, 100 years ago. 

She lowered her eyes and continued forward, the girl leading her to their home and Link gave the wounded girl to the father and bid them a goodbye, turning to leave. “Wait!” 

Link turned, the mother coming forward and giving her a trio of rice balls, wrapped in leaves, just the tip of each rice ball visible. Link took them in her hand, the heat from the fresh rice and the smell of steamed fish emanating from them and she looked to the woman. 

“Thank you, hero.” Link blinked, nodding.

“You’re welcome. May Hylia bless you.” And she left.


	7. 007.

The rooster’s crow woke Link up. She sat up, shaking hay off of her. Kuris raised his head, having laid behind his rider in the small stable. Link yawned, trying to strip sleep from her body so it wouldn’t be so heavy. 

She blinked and watched a young woman with a baby strapped to her back, blanket carefully tied around him to keep him still. She watched for another moment before rising, slow, slow, her bones creaking and her joints groaning. Kuris got up much quicker, shaking off his body. 

“Sorry Kuris. I should have taken the saddle off,” Link murmured and led Kuris towards the woman. “Excuse me.” 

The woman looked up, bright blue eyes shining like the shallow waters of a lake or river, jewels hidden in caves. “Oh! Yes?” She took a step back and her eyes flickered around. Link closed in on herself, Kuris stepping back with her. 

“I just wished to know how to do the bound you have on your back, for the babe.” The woman blinked, surprised, before glowing brightly. 

“Do you have a babe?” 

“Yes, although he’s currently with a friend, a bit young to be on the road, afterall.” 

The woman laughed. “Yes, yes! Well first you need something to tie them with…”she trailed off, watching Link search for something. Link comes up empty-handed, shaking her head. “That’s alright, let me find something!” Link waited beside the pot, looking down at the soup. She leaned down, the woman leaving her to enter a building down the road. 

She smelled the soup and wrinkled her nose. “Not enough amaranth.” She lets go of Kuris’ reins, the stallion staying where she left him as she searched for the purple bulbs. She found two and brought them back, crushing one head in her fist, the seeds and oil dripping into the pot and she carefully stirred it with the ladle.

She rose it to her lips and tasted it, smacking her lips and nodding. “Yeah. This will do.” The woman returns just as Link finished with the soup and held out a folded dark cloth. Link took it and opened it. 

“I’m afraid it was the only extra cloth we had! It was my husband’s, when he used to be a merchant traveling from Central Hyrule to Lanayru. He’s since retired, but! It’s a Hylian hood, it’s good for protecting against sun and weather!” Link followed her instructions, using a large round fruit, a palm fruit, as practice. It was lighter than her egg but around the same size. “Perfect! Of course, you put their little legs through these and make sure their arms are strapped in, so they can’t grab anything!” The woman opened the leg holes and Link nodded. 

“I can’t thank you enough. I’ll feel much better when I can have him with me once more.” Link unwrapped the palm fruit, catching it and handing it back to the woman. She nodded and Link clasped the hood around her neck, the brass clasps well worn and the design long hidden under finger oils and scratches. 

The woman waved as Link led Kuris up the hill before they disappeared around a bend. As they slowly climbed, Ovli Plains and Ginner Woods became clear, the Solewood Range in the north, the peak of Lanayru Mountain at the top. The lakes and rivers that surrounded Hateno flowed a deep and unsullied blue. It was beautiful. 

Link turned forward and her breath caught in her lungs, stagnant. A pair walked from the top of the hill, one in a carefully sewed and carefully made blouse, bright cerulean fabric fitted across her shoulders and sleeves, gold and white accents, with dark brown trousers tucked into rider boots. Who followed was even more familiar. Link, in a loose tunic of the similar cerulean color, with white designs, wearing a single leather bracer, and archer gloves. 

Link took a step back and the two faded. Link looked around, trying to find them again and trying to remember why she was here with Zelda, with Zelda. With the Princess. Her eyes finally climbed to the top of the hill. Hateno’s Ancient Tech Lab. Purah. 

Link swallowed and continued up. They came to a flat area, a fork in the road. Link turned towards the left path but was stopped by screaming. Link whipped around and stepped back, the woman charging her stopping and breathing heavily. 

“Fuck! I thought you were one of those monsters from the beach.” The woman sighed, lowering her pitchfork. 

“Monsters?” Link repeated and the woman nodded, gesturing to the farm behind her. A corral with cows and sheep and a few retrievers, dogs excited to bound up to Link and demand pets. Link rubbed their velvet ears, scratching under their eyes and around their cheeks. 

“Bastards keeps fucking stealing my sheep!” The woman cried and threw the pitchfork to the side of her house, continuing to cuss and curse the monsters. An older man finally approached Link, shooing the dogs away from her. 

“I apologize for my daughter’s actions,” he bowed and Link bowed as well. “You see, the sheep are our main source of meat and wool. Without them, the fabric shops down in Hateno will have to pay much more from outside sources, and even then, it’s no sure way. With monsters on the road and all.” Link nodded. 

“I’ll take care of the monsters at the beach for you.” The man blinked, shock overtaking his features. 

“You will? Why?” 

“Why not? I know how to fight, I don’t mind a little detour. I’ve been getting stressed, it’ll be a good way to deal with it. Just watch Kuris, please.” Link led Kuris to a post and tied him, his lips pulled away from his teeth, upset to be left. 

“Kuris? An old name. Hateno in origin.” Link blinked. 

“Is it? It just came to me.” The man laughed, nodding. 

“The last I heard of it was an Imperial Guard, some hundred years ago.” He waved his hand, shaking off the words as if a fly. Link nodded slowly, trying to figure out why it was so familiar. “If you follow the right road, it will lead down to the beach. That’s where the monsters are. Be safe, traveler.” Link nodded and left. 

The road was long, curved at every bend, tight, before going straight down the mountain. The sand sunk beneath Link’s boots and she stared out at the ocean. It was so big, so, so - blue. The word was whispered in the back of her head and she nodded. Blue. 

To her left was the monster camp, a moblin, and a few bokoblins. Not many places to hide and she had no long-range weapons, her quiver empty from the hunting she has done in the last week. She climbed up the path once more, before cutting around, the bokoblins corrupted eyes unable to see very far, and she used that to her advantage. She finally came around to where they kept the sheep, eyeing the terrified creatures, the bokoblins grunting and screaming at them, shaking their crude weapons. 

Link sighed. She slunk to the back of the sheep corral, pulling her sword and shield out and lunging forward, cutting through the bokoblin’s neck and slicing through the next. The moblin cried and she dodged a body-breaking club. It hit the sand, creating a large hole where she once was. She lunged forward as it tried to regain it’s balance and cut through it’s knees. 

The moblin fell with a cry and she cut off it’s head. An arrow thunked into the sand beside Link and she dodged the next one, climbing the ramp up the monster’s tree, and cut through the bow, before taking it’s head. She took in harsh breaths, trying to steady her breath, sharp and cutting, like her sword. She sheathed her blade and gathered the arrows, more relaxed to know she can continue hunting. She went around the camp, picking arrows from the sand, gathering monster parts, cutting out organs and horns.

The shops would buy them for money, used in elixirs, or for weapons. She finally freed the sheep and they followed her back to their home. The sun was just barely setting when she finally climbed back to the farm, the sheep having to be walked back into their corral before they finally rejoined their herd. 

The woman disappeared into the house, the old man coming to Link, who was untying Kuris. The stallion made his displeasure known by nipping at Link’s hair, chewing on it. “Thank you. You saved us and our farm.” 

“It is really no trouble, sir. I am always happy to help.” The man chuckled and the woman finally returned, a saddlebag in hand. 

“Here. Your reward for saving our sheep.” She held it out, sharp amber eyes only growing darker as the sun set. Link’s jaw dropped and she shook her head. 

“Really, I do not need a reward-”

“It’s an extra! Just take it!” The woman shoved it to Link’s chest and left her, Link grasping for the saddlebag. It was heavy and when Link opened it, she noticed the bottles of milk. The old man sighed and bowed to Link, who returned it and he left to chastise his daughter. Link turned to Kuris and attached the saddlebag to the saddle, sliding it under the butt, and tying it through a D-ring. 

Link led Kuris back up the road, the sun finally set behind the mountain range as they climbed. It only took another minute to reach the lab and Link tied Kuris to a branch on the apple tree that stood tall and heavy with fruit outside the lab. Kuris lowered his head to eat the fallen apples. 

Link approached the door, looking at the Sheikah symbols on the outside, the frog statue above the door wearing glasses, and shook her head. She pressed the door open and all movement stopped in the lab. Only two sets of eyes looked towards her, one a tall man in the back and the other a young girl at the center table. Link closed the door and stood there for a moment, clearing her throat. 

“I’m looking for Purah? Impa sent me.” The man’s eyes, however brief, fluttered to the young girl, before refocusing. Link approached the girl, looking her up and down.

The name had been familiar and Link knew Purah had been taller. She had spent the last three days trying to remember it, after all. “You were taller the last time I saw you, no?” The girl’s eyes widened and tears started to gather at the corners. 

“You remember?” Link blinked, Purah’s accent just slightly different from Impa’s, not as mellow or low vowels, higher, and sharper constants, like Hateno, like Link’s. 

“Not much. Just your name. And that you were taller. That’s all. Impa promised to tell me everything,” Link pulled the slate from her side, holding it out, “I just have to fix this first.” 

“You broke it?” Purah shrieked, snatching it from Link’s hand, who, on instinct, chuckled and stuck her tongue out. 

“No. It was just hanging out for like, a hundred years.” Link leaned against the table, folding her arms as Purah jumped off the chair and ran around, yammering about how irresponsible Link was and how she has never changed. Purah finally stopped, sighing and turning to Link, pointing at her with the slate. 

“For me to fix this, I need to restart the ancient furnace! You have to go get the blue flame from Hateno and bring it back here, to the furnace outside the lab!” Link groaned and Purah smacked Link on the thigh, the woman snapping and clicking her tongue. “Take the torch and hurry back!” Link snatched the torch from the wall and left. Kuris lifted his head and Link patted his hindquarter as she walked behind him. 

She stood at the edge of the cliff and looked over Hateno. A small glowing blue speck was down in the village and Link wondered how she missed it. She shrugged and began her journey back to the village. 

The village at night was much quieter, everyone gone and inside homes, and Link, the only lifeform left. As she walked down the small path, up against a wall and a small stream that led to a pond behind a home, from the rushing river that ran through the village, she noticed that small lights began lighting up, floating beside her, moving away quickly if she got too close. 

Fireflies. She chuckled, shaking her head. She crossed a small bridge and climbed a small path to the flame. It was a bright blue and when she approached, she felt no heat. She blinked and looked around, before reaching her hand to hover about the fire. She tore her hand away and shook it, hissing. Nope, still burns. She stared at her palm, slightly red and irritated, but not burned. She swung the torch through and began walking it back. 

As she approached the bottom of the small path, she noticed a stone lantern at the end. She lifted the torch and lit the lantern and went to the next. It absorbed her, tore her from the task, as she searched Hateno for the rest of the lanterns. The last was at the top of the hill, just before the apple tree and it was early morning when she finally arrived at it. She swung the torch through and finally arrived at the furnace. 

She lit it and snuffed the flame out in the dirt, kicking the torch away. The furnace grew hot, glowing blue and a small stone ring below Link glowed as well. She shrugged and finally entered the lab, dodging a tossed book that slammed into the door. 

“It took you four hours! What were you doing?” Purah roared, such a loud voice for such a small body. Link chuckled. 

“Got distracted. I lit all the lanterns.” 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” Purah groaned and jumped off the stool, holding out the slate. Link took it and Purah pointed to a dais. 

“Put it in and let's see what it’ll give us, snap!” The last word was sharp and Link smiled softly at the familiar movement and words. Link placed it into the dais and the machine took it and turned it, beginning to repair it. They waited and it finally released the slate. 

Link took it and opened the map. A new travel place was set, which was the lab and a camera roll was added. She opened that, Purah standing on the table to see over her hands and Link slightly lowered the slate so Purah could see easier. 

“The Princess did like taking pictures! Maybe you should visit those places, they might remind you of something.” 

Link lifted her eyes, hope bright in her blue eyes, the glittering sea on a calm day. 

“I can get my memories back?”


End file.
